Stone Circle endir

Not once did Astrid stray from the side of @Gunnar. Never, never; not even when he'd been whisked away for medical care, to make his last days — comfortable.
It disgusted her to see him like this. To see his eyes glazed with profound exhaustion, the hitch of breath in his throat as it rattles. It felt wrong, as if she were seeing something she was never meant to.
And still too young was she to fully grasp what was happening; she knew of death, yes, she knew it happened. But what did it really mean? And why was there this horrible twisting feeling in her gut?
She sits at his side now, one big paw clasped between the two shaken ones of her own. She has not eaten, has not slept; she can't bring herself to, and she doesn't know why. Anyone who dares come near them in this present moment is met with a grim show of her teeth; a nip if they do not heed her warning.
All she can do is be with him.

His children stayed near him. A constant joy in the pain. None of them ever straying. Astrid most of all. Though the fact she had not been caring for herself bothered him.

Clear of head and sore, but able to runction he opened steel gray eyes. And looked at his daughter. A shieldmaiden to her core.

Astrid? You need to eat, to rest my girl.

A gentle press to her temple a lick to her small cheek. A breath deep and full. He stretched one leg, but didn't remove hia paw from hers.

His voice churns.
Nei, her face is warm, hot, even; her head hurts. ég er hræddur.
And that was a first, a first to come from her — Astrid Ahnah was never scared. A fearless girl, a willful girl, a haughty girl; selfish, brash, rude. And none of this did she ever admit, not to herself, not to anyone else.
But fear seemed to ravage her now, a fear all-encompassing that had begun to sunder her, a confusion and worry and horror so thick she now felt herself getting lost in it.
Ég þarfnast þín enn, pabbi.
She squeezes the paw tight.

Willful, far more than her brothers ever would be.  Strong and her own little wolf. He was so proud of her.

He pulled her close and nuzzled her head. It's okay to be scared, I'm often scared. But it is how you handle it. You can be brave or you can let it rule you.

Tears spring to his eyes. He needed her too, and it was such a cruelty to be taking something or in this case someone from her, but Gunnar knew all men must die someday.

He curled her tightly i know little princessa but all men must die someday it is nature. The important thing is to remember you are so loved and i will be here. he pressed his nose to heart and here he pressed to her temple.

never very far

Astrid felt as if her world was crumbling at her feet. She listens, feels the cold touch of her father's nose against her chest, her head, and she cannot seem to stop herself when the tears begin to well in her eyes.
Why are you leaving me? she hiccups. I don't want you to leave. angry, she wanted to be angry; she wanted to kick and scream and punch and bite, and yet she could do nothing but crumble beneath him.
This wasn't happening.
What can I do, pabbi? I-I can, um, I can-- I can ask auntie Tauris and uncle Fig if they have medicine. Or we could go to Riverclan again. Or-- her breath hitches, holds ever tightly her lungs. you can get better. We can fix it.
She knew, somewhere, that they could not.

Gunnar's heart tightened and snapped just a little when his precious little one began to cry. This was so hard. More so for her than him. He because he knew she would be okay eventually, her because her world felt as if it were ending. 

He held her fast and spoke softly. Not willingly, but it is as nature intended.

Gunnar smiled at her with gentle eyes. It will help for a little while Astrid, but eventually even the medicine will stop working. I cannot get better my darling. Age always has a way of winning in the end.

A soft breath. It hurt a little, but he wouldn't let her know. He was trying to keep a stiff upper lip for them. Make sure all were okay.

He folded an ear towards her and licked her little head. How terrible of a father he felt.

gonna fade this one here since his rip post is up

Age always has a way of winning.
For a time, Astrid does not say anything; tears pour, soft and full of fire, full of denial. This was not happening, could not be happening;
But it was. It was, and she knew that it was.
Her breath finds purchase somewhere through the fog. Ég elska þig svo mikið, pabbi, one paw reaches up to swipe at her cheek, the other still clutched tight to the frail, white-tipped knuckles of a father she will soon have to let go of. ég elska þig.
She nestles herself between jaw and shoulder, nose buried in the pinesap scent of his fur, and she listens intently to his breath as lungs rise and fall in his chest.